Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, am simply borrowing them for the purposes of this story.

AN: A short second chapter to Marked for Death, this time from Jane's POV. Nothing much happens, and it might be a bit too cloyingly sweet for some.

Marked for Death Chapter Two

Lisbon's sleeping beside me and I can't bring myself to close my eyes. I feel entirely unwilling to let her slip from my gaze. For the last twelve nights I have lain in this bed with Lisbon, and I have cherished each and every second of the time I have gotten to share with her.

Usually I am able to sleep for a few hours with her warm body beside mine; the heat of her skin against my own is fast becoming my absolute favourite sensation in life. It's yet one more reason that I vow over and over again that Lisbon will live, and that I will live with her. And we will be free of Red John finally.

We are no closer to catching him, but I think all of us have needed a few days to recover from the almost devastating loss of Lisbon. And we've had the workload of another two additional cases to work on, as Red John has seemingly retreated after his most recent horrific acts.

I know we are closer than we have ever been in our pursuit of him, I know we are closing the distance between him and his freedom to murder.

It's never been more important that we stop him, now that it's not simply my beautiful family I need to avenge, but also my beautiful Lisbon.

I believe I can claim the privilege of calling her my beautiful Lisbon now, these nights we have spent together have been passionate, precious and a promise of what will be when this is all over. Lisbon would tease me if she knew I was thinking like this, and she would certainly tease me over my ridiculous alliteration. I definitely need to sleep if these are the places my mind is taking me.

I can't sleep, though – I know I won't tonight, but I will spend the next however many hours in contentment with Lisbon beside me. After our first night together, when I surprised even myself with the demands I made on Lisbon - when I insisted that we actually start with the living of our lives I know Lisbon believed she would be able to hold back and return to our usual pattern of circling each other and surviving on glances, intentional chaste touches, and wanting more than we allowed ourselves to feel. I couldn't go back to that life after learning what it was to have her kisses and hear her delightful sighs of pleasure.

I couldn't go back to the both of us being alone, and I couldn't leave her alone and have him think that Lisbon was not already owned. I tried to explain this to Lisbon a few days ago and she very charmingly, and powerfully, punched me in the shoulder, bemoaning my insufferable need for possession. I frankly took that as a compliment. Nonetheless, Lisbon attempted to return to the distance between us after the first night we were together, and I wanted to make her happy and keep my distance – but I wanted to be near her so very much more. Breathing is easier when I am near her, and living is so much more vivid when I am touching her. So I attempted to stay as near her as I could, by sleeping in my car outside her apartment. She left me there till just after 2am then called me and instructed me to come sleep beside her already.

I have ever since.

Well, we sleep and we love actually. We haven't given voice to this, but I have adored her with my body and she has certainly welcomed me gladly into her tender embrace.

Lisbon is exhausted tonight, she has never slept quite so deeply before while I have been with her and I am grateful for this chance to simply enjoy listening to her breathing while she lies in my arms.

I am thankful for this time to catalogue all of the ways that Lisbon is precious to me. It comforts me in the dark of the night that Red John is out there somewhere seeing her only in shades of red. He can't know how utterly, utterly wrong he is about that. She is so very much more complex, startling and magnificent. He must believe he has insinuated his way into her life, into her consciousness with his taunting and attempts of control. It comforts me that I know her while he will only every attempt to, and I have to believe this is what will help to keep her safe. She is as necessary to me as breath, and I refuse to let her go. Ever.

I move her long hair to the side, so that I can rest my lips against her neck as I pull her closer to me. She is truly drained tonight as usually a move like this will cause at least a little sleepy grumble of discontentment. I wrap my arms completely around her and rest my hands against her bare stomach. She is so slight in my arms I have to remind myself of her infinite strength and unwillingness to ever give in. That's one of her traits that first made me stop and really look at her.

She's bewitching.

In the dark like this I can allow myself to be calmed by the knowledge that we know each other so completely – and that Red John doesn't understand us quite as well as he thinks he does. Maybe I should admit that he does know me, so much of my life this last decade has been driven in reaction to his acts of death and he thinks I will react as I always have. I won't, I can't. I still want him dead, I'll always want his death but I will endure his life if I get to keep Lisbon. I will endure his incarceration instead of his death if I get to sleep in this bed with Lisbon for the remaining days of my own life.

So I lie here and list all the ways that Lisbon is mine, and known by me – he marked her in blood, coloured her as red when she is so very much more complex and gloriously alive.

I can't fathom their beauty right now but she will forever be green to me because of her magnificent eyes. I have found comfort in looking into those eyes more times than I could ever account for. So many of her emotions can be communicated with just one look – and I flatter myself by believing that to be true between the two of us more than anyone else in the world. I have witnessed her eyes look at me while shining with laughter, intensity, radiance, fear, defeat, and sadness and despair. Though in all these years she's never flinched. I have lately, however, found that my absolute favourite light in her eyes is when she stares back into mine while we are as close as we are ever likely to be. When we are together she maintains an intense contact with my own eyes which is entirely seductive. And then after as we lie wrapped around each other and she smiles at me and her happiness and contentment is reflected back at me in her exquisite green eyes I know I am the only person who will ever get to see that particular shade ever again.

She is also known to me by those secret places I assume will only ever be shared between the two of us. Her pale skin on her inner thighs, the impossibly soft pale skin of her breasts – these shades are only known to the two of us, and their velvety white colours will forever sustain me.

But she has always been sunshine too, her heart and spirit and hope have always made me think of the warm orange of the late afternoon sun. I know for a long time I was the cause of the disappearance of warmth and hope from her life – I took that colour away from her, but I know that won't happen anymore while I breathe.

So I lie here beside Lisbon and think of all the numerous and wonderful ways she is known by me, and the most perfect part is I haven't even begun to explore how I am known and owned in return. She might talk about us in less emotional language but I understand that our connection is just as real when witnessed through those gorgeous eyes of hers.

I'm going to lie with her like this every night, be as close to her as I can every day, and we will protect each other in every way as we prepare to defeat Red John. He can't ever really understand the connection between the two of us, which makes us almost impenetrable I hope.

I know the last time I loved – a love that could never, ever end – I didn't appreciate that it could be ruined and destroyed by forces outside of my understanding. I've lived with that reality for so long, I know this love could be just as easily destroyed but I have to bear that in order that I get to be with Lisbon. I know anything could be borne if I got to rest with her with my hands around her like this, my fingers stroking any and all of her skin within my reach.

"Jane, you're supposed to be sleeping."

I recognise that tone, she's less than pleased to have been woken up by "my nonsense" as she likes to claim. I love her when she's like this.

"I couldn't sleep, there's a Lisbon sized distraction in bed next to me."

"Hush."

"Never."

I kiss her shoulder, aligning our bodies so that we lie flush against each other, selfishly needing this time with her to prepare for another day when I can't be near enough or touch her enough.

"Lisbon, can we stay here tomorrow? You call in sick and I'll be irresponsible and simply not turn up for work. I feel the need to spend the day in bed and have you to myself."

"Sure."

I smile against her back, loving her sleepy disgruntled words almost as much as I love her when she is awake and yelling at me.

"Jane, the alarm is still set for 6am – right? I need to be at work for an early meeting."

"Of course it is darling, I know you too well to think I could ever persuade to play hooky with me."

I lean forward and kiss her cheek, and lie beside her in the quiet of the night and wait for another new day to begin.